The Living Ghost
For a moment, neither Vikram nor Aisha could speak.
The man before them—Arun Bose—stood with his hands folded behind his back, his posture stiff like an old soldier. His face was lined with age, but his eyes were sharp, burning with an intensity that could shake history itself.
Vikram's heart pounded. "This… this isn't possible."
Arun Bose smiled faintly. "What isn't possible? That I'm alive?"
Aisha stepped forward cautiously. "You were declared dead. You disappeared in 1945."
Bose exhaled, as if he had been waiting decades to answer that question.
"I disappeared," he said slowly, "because India wasn't ready for the truth."
A long silence.
Then, he turned his back to them, walking deeper into the bunker. "Come," he said. "If you want answers, you need to understand what we were fighting for."
Vikram and Aisha followed him into the unknown.
The Secret Archive
The room they entered was nothing short of a historian's dream—and a nightmare.
Rows of filing cabinets, shelves stacked with classified British documents, Japanese military orders, old telegrams, and coded messages. Maps of World War II battle zones were pinned to the walls, with markings and handwritten notes all over them.
Aisha's breath caught in her throat. "This… this is impossible. These records don't exist. They were all destroyed after Independence."
Bose chuckled. "That's what they want you to believe."
Vikram's eyes landed on an old, rusted metal box. Something about it felt important.
He opened it—his hands trembling. Inside, there were several fragile documents, a black-and-white photograph… and a sealed envelope.
His fingers traced the photograph. It showed a group of men in military uniforms, standing beside Subhas Chandra Bose.
And in the corner of the photo, almost hidden in the shadows—
Arun Bose.
Vikram's throat went dry. "You… you were with him."
Bose's face darkened. "I was more than just 'with him.' I was one of his most trusted men."
Aisha's voice was barely a whisper. "What happened?"
Bose turned to a dusty, metal vault in the corner. With great effort, he pulled the lever. The door creaked open, revealing a single, faded file.
A name was printed on it in bold, military-grade ink.
"Operation Phoenix."
The Mission That Never Ended
Bose lifted the file carefully, as if it carried the weight of a nation's forgotten history.
"Everyone believes that Netaji died in a plane crash in 1945," he began. "But the truth… is much darker."
He placed the file on the table and opened it.
The first page contained a heavily redacted British Intelligence report.
'Top Secret. British Military Command – Southeast Asia, 1945.
Subject: The Missing Leader and the Ghost Unit.
Status: Unconfirmed sightings in Japanese-occupied zones.
Recommendation: Immediate termination if found.'
Vikram's head spun.
Aisha whispered, "The British knew?"
Bose nodded. "They knew. And they hunted us."
He flipped another page.
It showed a map of Siberia.
A red circle was drawn around a Soviet prison camp.
Vikram's pulse raced. "You're saying Netaji was in Russia?"
Bose exhaled deeply. "After the supposed plane crash, Netaji wasn't dead. He was captured. The Soviet Union held him as a bargaining chip. But the Cold War changed everything. Stalin never let him leave."
Aisha's hands tightened into fists. "Then why didn't India try to rescue him?"
Bose's face hardened. "Because they didn't want to."
Silence.
Then, he placed a final document on the table.
It was a telegram, dated 1950.
'To: Prime Minister's Office, New Delhi.
From: KGB Directorate.
Subject: The Indian Prisoner.
Status: Shall we proceed with liquidation?
Awaiting your confirmation.'
Vikram's entire body went numb.
Aisha whispered, "Someone… someone in our own government approved it."
Bose's hands clenched. "They erased him from history."
The bunker felt suffocating now. Everything they knew about India's past was a lie.
The Last Question
Vikram struggled to find words. "Why tell us now?"
Bose's expression was unreadable. "Because the past is repeating itself."
He turned to a large map pinned to the wall.
It showed modern India. But certain areas were marked in red.
And the title above it read:
'Operation Phoenix – Phase Two.'
Aisha frowned. "What is this?"
Bose's voice was grim. "A plan that was put in place decades ago. And now, someone is trying to finish what we started."
Vikram's mind raced. "Who?"
Bose looked him dead in the eyes.
"The same people who silenced Netaji. And they know you're looking for the truth."
At that moment, the lights flickered.
Then—
A loud explosion rocked the bunker.
Vikram and Aisha barely had time to react before the metal doors slammed shut.
And outside, the sound of boots stomping on the ground.
They had been found.